Veiled PAGE


Part 1

Christine and Max:


"God, I'm mad! You just don't have any eggs! Again and again, you promise me that you will divorce. Okay, your old lady owns the store, but you're absolutely top of the line in your job, and we have all the customer data. We could start a competitor right away and your wife looks stupidly out of the laundry. She could only inherit. She can spend money, but certainly not earn it,"

I said for the thousandth time. We sat in his office to vote on how to proceed. We had been a couple for two years, secretly, because he was married, and we both worked for her. He had outsourced her business to the Internet and thus saved her from insolvency. When she inherited the business from her father, it was a well-stocked fashion discount store with many well-attended stores. Madame had failed the internet shop, she was more interested in the Golf club than being in the company. Max, then head over heels in love with her, came just in time to save the day and be a decorative and presentable husband financially dependent on her. He knew all that, but he just couldn't get away from her. So much he also loved me. We had to close most of the branches to save the rest. Today business is going fantastically well again, and we want to acquire a new customer base, the growing Muslim community. We want to run the business unofficially, without Madame knowing anything. Perhaps the first step towards an independent business and his divorce. Hope dies last. He said: "It's time, we have an appointment with Sheik Achmed Kabir. We should not annoy him by being late."


At Sheiks:


"Madame, my dearest friend, I'm glad you made time for me. I must inform you urgently about some grievances in your closer environment, but we want to sit down first and drink tea together."

"Yes, as you always say so nicely: Nothing can be so hasty as not having time for a cup of tea," she said.

"The Brotherhood is deeply in your debt. By taking over your branches in the shopping streets, we have achieved great success for our causes." The Sheik replied.

"You can bring your faith further among the people and for this, you manufacture for me to top conditions in your tailoring factories. So we both get what we need. But the friendship with you and Soraya cannot be paid with any money in the world," Madame said.

Soraya entered the living room and brought the tea.

The women greeted each other warmly and Madame asked:

"You're not wearing a niqab, what happened?"

"A new, more liberal policy helps us more than holding on to too strict rules. We women want to get more involved, a niqab is a hindrance at the moment," Soraya said.

"Wow, if I can design the women's clothes for you now, I'll come on board," Madame said.

"Then you would convert? Achmed gives her the order so that I may welcome a new sister." Soraya chuckled.

"Maybe it's not so absurd, at the moment I'm looking for something that gives my life more meaning. Enough of me! Achmed tells me your horror stories."

"Believe me, it's not easy for me. It's about your husband and business," said Achmed.

"If you want to tell me that he's cheating on me with his assistant, I've known that for a long time."

She had tears in her eyes. It was a mixture of anger and sadness. Soraya came up to her and stroked her comforting.

"Unfortunately, that's not all. He and his assistant have a business meeting with me in an hour. The way it looks, they want to betray you." "Enough, I've had enough of this egg and brainless beauty. I'm getting a divorce," Madame complained.

"I would strongly advise against that, Madame. It could ruin you and we lose one of our best partners. Are you serious? Are you one hundred % sure that you want to dissolve your marriage? "Sheik asked.

"What a marriage, if the parasite and his bitch are gone, I have two pimples less on my ass," she roared up.

"You are too upset for me at the moment, go to the women's wing with Soraya and wait until I call you! Achmed ordered and happy to have such a good, caring friend, she obeyed.

"I love this woman. I have to protect her. Soon she will become my second wife, Inshallah", Achmed thought.

In the women's wing, in Soraya's comforting arms, Madame dropped all her inhibitions and cried bitterly.


Max with an assistant:


"Welcome to my house, Mr Reimann! Come in. Oh! You brought your secretary with you. But that's a good thing! You must know my wife Soraya is unfortunately not at home. Your secretary can fix us tea, can't she?"

"I am not his sec...", Christine wanted to clarify, but Max drove over her mouth and said:

"Yes, of course! My secretary cooks excellent tea. Where do we find the kitchen?"

"Straight down the hall." said the Sheik, left the two and went into the living room with a big grin.

Madame and Soraya could follow everything on a monitor from the women's wing. Madame's mood improved abruptly with this scene. They saw Christine storming into the kitchen in rage, Max trotting behind her, and when she closed the door behind her:

"How could you: My secretary cooks excellent tea. I am a studied woman and not a servant. The guy didn't even greet me. We're going home immediately!"

"Christine, please, calm down. Just do what he asks for so that I can get the business done. After all, we want to get married!"

That was it. Immediately she caught herself and said:

"Damn, take care of the asshole and I'll make the tea."

Quickly Max ran to Sheik to crawl even deeper into his ass.

While the women kept watching Christine, who was desperately looking for the utensils to prepare the tea that Soraya had put away, she let a generous amount of gas flow into the kitchen. Madame asked.

"Dear, what are you doing?"

"I give the bitch a large dose of consciousness to taste manipulated gas," she said.

"You're scaring me, what diabolical stuff is used here?"

"It's not diabolical stuff, it's a blessing for any degenerate western woman. It enables us women to become good Salafist wives. I am a Western-educated German, how do you think I can lead a life as a submissive and obedient servant of my husband and still be the happiest woman in the world? The gas freed me from my decadent imprint and lets me have a happy marriage. I understand your horror, but to once experience this happiness of a perfect marriage is incredibly pleasant. Just think of your messed up marriage. Sorry, I didn't mean to say that, I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"All right, I think I'm suffering a little clash of culture, let's discuss that later, but go on. I want to see the bitch wriggle!"

"With joy, my dearest friend" and both laughed about Christine wandering around in a strange kitchen.

Meanwhile, Max entered the living room.

"Sit down while we wait for tea. You must know that I don't close a deal without having a cup of tea."

"Of course, Mr Kabir."

"I ask you to address me with my title Sheik, as is befitting for a guest," he demanded.

"Excuse me! I am not very familiar with the customs of your country,"

Max printed.

"Well, if you want to do business with me you should close these gaps immediately! Where's your stupid secretary with tea?"

"Oh! she might have trouble finding everything in a strange kitchen, I think."

Max's shirt collar became tighter and tighter. He thought he was sweating blood.

"You should be more careful when choosing your staff. A secretary who keeps her boss waiting is an aberration, isn't it? Ah, I just see my wives have come home."

The Sheik pressed a button and said:

"Come down and make tea. In your kitchen, there's an absolutely incompetent secretary."

Madame and Soraya had turned into black spirits in the meantime, they were two identical cubes. They rushed into the kitchen. They saw a completely confused, wandering Christine, the gas dose was perhaps a little too strong.

"Who do we then have here? What are you doing in our kitchen," Soraya hissed at her.

Silently Madame enjoyed the scene under her veils.

"I, I should make tea for the men, a..but I find nothing," she stuttered.

"Too stupid to make tea! With you hollow chicks you can't make a state anymore! Get out of our kitchen, we'll bring tea!"

Part 2

It's getting a little rough here. Unfortunately, it could not be avoided. It's all due to art. So, if you should have a too gentle mind, then better stop reading here.


Howling, she ran out and ashamed herself to the core, not understanding why. She grabbed her things and ran into the street. There the good guys of Sheik were waiting for her. "Holla, that's a cute little milf! Are you lost, Bitch? Shall I show you your way?" They pushed her into a dark alley and ripped her blouse and bra off. Through the gas, the will to submit completely was overwhelming for her. Immediately she knelt on the dirty floor and devotedly took the penis held out to her in her mouth. "While you blow his cock, I want to fuck you in the ass. Down with the panties." She followed the order, he rammed his penis between her ass cheeks. "That's tight, damn it! You're probably still a virgin anal. It's an honour to deflower your ass." After all, had emptied themselves in her, they urinated on their victim. "Don't you want to thank us, motherfucker, for fucking your ass and your mouth?" "Thanks for fucking my ass and my mouth and thanks for your urine." Then they left her lying in the dirt. Two hijab girls found her, quickly fetched a blanket and brought her to the madrasah, where Imam, previously informed by Sheik, was waiting for her. "Wash her and give her clean clothes, then take her to the treatment room," he ordered.


Meanwhile, at Sheiks.

Soraya and Madame were entering the living room. First Soraya and then Madame knelt down in front of the Sheik and took his hand in their gloved hands, kissed them and then submissively touched them with their veiled forehead. Then they served the tea and pastries.

Max looked fascinated at this strange scene and then remembered that he saw nothing of Christine.

"Excuse me, have you seen my assis... uh, secretary?" he asked the women.

"Your bad behaviour is indescribable! Now you' re talking to respectable married Muslimas. I must ask you to leave my house immediately. I am no longer interested in doing business with a kufir. There's the door! Get out!"

There was a totally duped Max. Without a contract and without his assistant. When he approached his Porsche, he found it without wheels and when he searched for his iPhone, he noticed that it had been stolen from him and then his wallet was also gone. Completely paralyzed, he walked a long way home.

"The poor man, I almost feel sorry for him," Madame said, but no one saw her devilish grin hidden behind her veils.

"What actually happened to this bitch?

"She is in good hands, she will be fine," Achmed said.

"You mean you'll reverse her polarity with your gas?

"You have a completely wrong idea of us. We had to protect ourselves from the fascist attacks. The Nazis in Solingen and Remscheid burned down houses of Turks more than 20 years ago, and then the NSU, which for 10 years, although observed by the BND, murdered Turks without being bothered, and last but not least the AfD in the Bundestag and all state parliaments - and always accompanied by an anti-Islamic, racist press. Just imagine: one million Germans would live and be treated like this in Turkey. Who are you more afraid of now? From the rushing and murdering mob or from our consciousness expanding gas that makes the treated happy and loyal" said Achmed.

Soraya replied: "When I fell in love with Achmed, I was faced with the decision to live this life or to leave him. I have never regretted my decision! If you were honest with yourself, you could share this happiness with me."

Madame turned red. She understood immediately.

"Is it so evident, am I so easy for you to see through? The thought of living like you is simply too absurd for me, but I confess that I fell in love with Achmed! But to repress you and endanger our friendship is out of the question for me!"

Soraya took her in her arms and pressed her so tightly that she almost ran out of air.

"Please, come with me to the madrasah right now. Then you will understand much better! Have confidence, please!

"You say you will make me happy? You are my dearest friends! I have faith that you will guard me. Let us go, what are you waiting for? I have long been tired of my present life."

Deeply veiled, they made their way to Achmed's car. They got into the rear seat. It took a while until Madame had sorted her veils to sit properly. But then it could start. Madame held Soraya's glove with her gloved hand and wouldn't let loose. She really had lamp fright.

Finally, arrived, the women went straight to the treatment room. Everything was already prepared. They gave her a strong sedative, and she perceived everything as shadowy. They administered the nanobots intravenously and immediately they started their work. An hour later it was all over, she was only conditioned to lead a life as a Muslima, and she felt fantastic.

Achmed was already waiting for her outside the mosque.

"Madame, would you like to convert to Islam and become my second wife."

"Yes, I do! With all my heart I want to be a faithful companion and obedient, decent wife, to you".

Then they went to the mosque. Madame spoke the Shahada and made her vows. Happily they drove home and happily consummated their marriage.

Then Christine's fortune was much more profane. She endured a 24-hour treatment. Islam did not become a part of her life for her, but the only life she was entitled to.

She terminated all contracts and accounts with the help of a notary and married an Egyptian physician 25 years older who enjoyed an excellent reputation in the world and who was to open the first Islamic clinic in Berlin in Germany. Because of his reputation and his marriage to a German, he very quickly became a German citizen. Christine was now called Fatima. Her new husband was overcome by her incomprehensible chatter. With a shorthand, he cut her vocal cords, and she became an obedient, mute wife and soon a mother.

Max felt Sheik's irrepressible anger. He signed the divorce papers in the presence of a notary in which he waived all claims. He had to cancel all contracts and close all accounts in order to pay his debts to his company. Then he got a loving kick in the ass and ended up in the gutter.

An appropriate place for this scumbag, as Sheik used to say.

But instead of quietly retreating into his hole, he kept making palavers.

He always found a press person who thought he had to publish his story. In the end he ended up in an Egyptian laboratory of the Salafist Brotherhood.

But that's another story. Perhaps, another time more of that.